


Another Empty Page

by InkWitch (serkestic)



Category: Free!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serkestic/pseuds/InkWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Rin didn’t say goodbye, and the one time Kou didn’t.</p><p>[for <a href="http://gouallout.tumblr.com/">gouallout</a>: day 1]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Empty Page

**Author's Note:**

> **family**  
>  I interpreted this prompt in terms of Rin and Gou's relationship, (as is obvious ^^;) but also in terms of how Rin's absence has affected Gou and her mother's lifestyle in Japan.  
> This fic has [a theme song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pDMiy-Xrmq8); I listened to it constantly for inspiration, and cherry-picked words to put into Gou's mouth in places. Give it a listen; ISTG it's the most Rin and Gou song I've ever heard.  
> Much love to [lark](http://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/profile) and [ganymede](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklingGanymede/profile) for the beta!

**+1**

_the world around is full of arms still reaching out to me_

 

 

 

“Gou! You’re falling behind, hurry up!” Rin yelled over his shoulder. They ran along the boardwalk, toward the harbor, passing the  fishermen with their leisurely rods. There were kids playing here too, but Rin and Gou had no eyes for them. Well – Rin had no eyes for them. His gaze was cast forward, to the harbor, his red hair whipping in the rush of air. He did not look back, but kept yelling a steady stream of encouragement to Gou. Gou willed her legs to respond.

“Come on, run faster Gou, let’s hurry!”

“Nii-chan,” she panted, “Not– _fair_ –”

Their father had promised to show them net-fishing if they finished their chores and ran fast after lunch. The tide would move fast, had said Tou-chan, so if you don’t arrive soon enough, I’ll leave without you. They’d gobbled their lunches but their mother had insisted on doing Gou’s hair fresh; so nii-chan had a head start on Gou.

“Gou!”

He didn’t wait for her. Gou wouldn’t have waited for him either, so after a huff and a whiny, “Nii-chan, no _fair_!” she slowed to a walk to catch her breath. Rin’s feet stuttered when he glanced back to see her at a sedate pace; then, he stuck his tongue out and whooped in victory before running even faster, no longer setting pace for his sibling and letting his excitement push him even further and away. Gou amused herself by plotting her revenge against him.

She got to the harbor five minutes later and saw her father’s boat out on the waves. Her brother’s high-pitched voice carried over the water to her; he sparkled and shone, her brother, and Gou stewed in her happiness on his behalf and her own envy. Being a little sister was complicated.

Her father grinned at her and gestured for her to play around, but stay in the harbor. She waved wildly and blew him kisses as Tou-chan started up his boat. Her father waved back, calling, “I love you Gou! Be careful!”

Her brother faced forward.

 

 

**+2**

_I'm burning like a fuse_

_I'm not afraid_

 

 

 

Over time, Gou learns that her mother has a system and that the best way to get her to cooperate is to work within that system. So she makes rules for herself, twelve and already so responsible, her eyes blink open at six forty seven every morning and she goes to bed at ten thirty to appease her mother, only falling asleep around two fifteen in the morning once her mother’s restless shifting has stilled. She cooks breakfast and dinner, goes grocery shopping for the easy-to-chop vegetables, cleans the bathroom and gets neurotic about cleanliness as a result, takes out the trash and listens to her mother tell her excitedly about Tamako-san at work managing to pull off the sale of the _year_ , Gou, I really think this is going to work, I really think we’re going to take off – and Gou wishes. And hopes, and prays, for her mother’s sake and her own, that her mother’s business does take off because maybe then she can stop counting dates and waiting for her brother to come home.

Her brother does not want to come home. Already, he’s tried to beg off coming back home for holidays to go on a school-sponsored field trip to some stadium in the States, but her mother was adamant. He sends letters to her mother and she reads them over her shoulder; he’s doing well, and he sounds motivated, at least. There’s a few times when Gou thinks that maybe her brother is breaking a little bit, in his façade, but her mother is fooled. Rin is fine. Rin is doing good and doing what he wants. Her mother did _not_ make a mistake supporting his decision.

But he talks less, her brother. Gou feels the silence growing around her life like decorative ivy; her brother recedes more into himself with every visit home, her mother dives more into her work. She feels the quiet creeping into her bloodstream and she compensates by talking more, being that much more lively, inviting her friends over to her empty, quiet house as often as possible. She glows with energy; she gathers friends and loses them, like flowers.

Around her first year of chūgakkō, Gou joins the school baton twirling team and she looks _great_ in her uniform. Her friends crowd around her sparkle-eyed and Gou basks in their open admiration. She doesn’t tell anyone that for two solid weeks before the auditions, she practiced the forward and backward figure eights over a million times, until her muscles ached, and then she skipped until her calves cried for rest. She knows very well that beauty without effort looks the best.

Yukako-san walks her to her first practice. “Will you teach me how to do a thumb toss, Gou-chan? Are you excited for today? Nishigaki-senpai was talking about putting the recruits through the grinder at lunch; I’m worried now, what if you don’t like it after practice? And you twirl so wonderfully too!”

“Yukako-san,” Gou laughs. “ _Breathe_. I’ll be fine. Today’s our first practice; of _course_ recruits are going to be put through a lot. I won’t quit if I fall on my butt a couple of times in front of my senpai.”

“You’re so confident,” Yukako-san admires, and Gou tries very hard not to blush and look assured instead. Her strut becomes more pronounced. But when Gou looks over to see Yukako-san smiling wistfully at her uniform, her shoulders drop the slightest bit. She clenches her baton in both hands and shrugs carefully.

“I’m not confident, really,” she says. “I’m…” She hesitates, mind already flashing back to her mother at her work desk and her brother’s slow-dimming smile. She shakes her head. “I’m just not afraid.”

“There’s a difference?” Yukako-san asks.

“Yes,” Gou says. “I’ve worked hard for this so I _am_ nervous about not doing well. But I worked hard to get here and that’s good too. You see what I mean, Yukako-san?”

The way her friend’s eyes sparkles makes Gou uncomfortable; she’s not accustomed to people being amazed by her, no, that was always her brother’s jurisdiction. But when Yukako-san lunges forward to pull Gou into a hug, her smell a mixture of baby powder and strawberries, as she feels her friend’s warm breath on her cheek, “Gou-chan, you’re so _great_ ,” Gou feels a kind of dismal easing inside of her and struggles not to cry.

She holds that feeling Yukako-san gave her when she talks to Rin the next day. They talk politely about his studies, about her studies, about how his swimming is going, and Gou doesn’t tell him about making second string on her baton twirling team and Gou doesn’t comment on his icy tone whenever they go anywhere near his times. When Gou mentions the winter holidays, her brother hesitates.

“Onii-chan? …Are you planning on not coming back for holidays?”

This time the hesitation is more than five seconds long. Gou feels panic barreling up her throat. “Onii-chan!”

“No, Gou! I’m coming back. But there’s a three day trip that the school is arranging that I really want to go to, so I wanted to ask Kaa-san about that, that’s _it_. I’d be back for most of the holidays.”

“Unless you’re using this as an excuse to stay even longer in Australia,” Gou accuses. “Onii-chan, I can see through you.”

“Lori and Russell think its fine if I go on this trip, Gou, plus Kaa-san is going to be busy in Tokyo during that time anyways–”

“Lori-san and Russell-san are not your family!” The burning behind her eyes spill into tears and she clutches the receiver with sweaty hands.

Rin pauses. “They are part of my family,” he says quietly, not hearing the hitch in her voice. “Just like you and Kaa-san are. They have as much right advising me as you and Kaa-san do, Gou.”

“Onii-chan, this is your _home_ …”

“Gou?” Her mother puts her hand on her shoulder and her eyes widen at the sight of Gou’s tears. “Gou, what did Rin say?”

She shakes her head, but it’s futile. Rin’s voice in her ear, “Gou? I want to talk to Kaa-san,” and her mother wiping away her tears and holding out her hand for the phone; and all she wanted was for Rin to stop ignoring her. To tell him that Nishigaki-san told her that her forward eight was the best she’d ever seen but her backward eight was wobbly. To ask him how he could hone perfection and she couldn’t.

Gou hands over the phone.

 

 

**+3**

_I know that I have always walked the line_

_in between of confidence and lies_

 

 

 

She wonders how glad she should be that Rin doesn’t come home more often.

Her hands are steady when she holds her mother’s shoulders and bends over her to coax her out of her chair and away from the laptop to have some dinner. Her tone is cheerful when she asks how Tamako-san’s baby was doing, oh wow he learned to _walk_! That’s adorable! Her eyes are dim but not enough to make her mother worry and, for this, she is thankful. She does not want to make her mother worry and let her down.

Her mother would certainly have worried if Rin came home. He never wears a smile anymore and he has creases in his forehead; at sixteen, he looks like he’d fought through war and seen atrocious things. Perhaps he has. Four years were such a long time; Kou knows that while she was building a life for herself and her mother, alone and together, her brother must have been doing the same for himself all the way across an ocean. After a while, she’d grown to accept it and all it meant to her: resentment, anxiety, sadness, and yes, a little pride.

Every year that they’d seen him walking towards them in the airport; Kou had felt more and more that her brother was a stranger. So over time, it had gotten much easier to accept that she _couldn’t_ control him or make his decisions for him; she _couldn’t_ prevent her mother from seeing her brother’s caustic gaze and not saying a word about it; she just _couldn’t_ figure out how the boy who’d made mud pies with her had become a monosyllabic loner. She didn’t know him anymore. This was okay.

This _is_ okay, Kou thinks as she glares at her mobile screen. The speech bubble outlining her last text sits unattended to.

> **1.23 PM, Tuesday**
> 
> Nii-chan, the last of your stuff from Australia is here! Lori-san sent a letter as well and we forwarded it to your school. Come by to pick up your things soon, okay?

She’d sent that to him yesterday; he still hasn’t replied. He had come back to Japan to spend his kōtōgakkō years somewhere familiar, and yet he hadn't come to see her mother out of his own volition _once_. Reaching out to your stubborn brother, Kou thinks exasperatedly, only goes _so_ far. She isn’t going to send him any more texts, that’s all. Two can play that game.

“Kou?”

Kou springs up from her desk as her mother peers into her room. She’s wearing a blue spring dress and looks very young with her hair loose around her shoulders. Kou grins as her mother smiles to see her at her study desk.

“Don’t look too pleased, Mama,” she says as she walks forward. “I wasn’t actually _studying_.”

Her mother frowns. “Kou, your first testing period is coming up.”

“Don’t remind me,” she sighs. “What do you need, Mama?”

Mama sighs and lets her frown melt into a smile again. “I wanted to borrow your silver chain. I have a nice locket that goes with this dress, but I can’t find my silver chain, and the bronze one won’t do.”

“Okay.” Kou heads to her jewelry box and rummages, glancing over at her mother to smile, “You look really pretty, Mama. Are you going to a club today, maybe?”

“Kou!” Mama shoots her a look and then bites her lip to stop from giggling. “I don’t think that’s exactly on the agenda, but we _might_. Not that you should imply anything by that, you naughty girl!”

“Mama, I’m fifteen not five.”

“Will you be alright by yourself tonight?” she asks with a touch of anxiety in her voice. “There’s some sashimi in the fridge, and you can make tempura for yourself. Or just heat up some of leftover lunch, we haven’t finished yesterday’s leftovers either.”

“Mama, I’m _fifteen_ not _five_ ,” huffs Kou. She hands over the silver chain with a scowl.

Mama laughs. “Alright, alright. A mother is entitled to worry, Kou! It comes with the package.”

“You don’t have to be so neurotic about it every time you leave me at home; I make dinner for us anyway.”

“Such a talented girl,” her mother teases fondly. Kou swats at her and she wriggles away with a laugh. “I’ll be late today, so don’t stay up for me. Alright, Kou?”

Kou nods, even as she knows that she’ll stay awake until she hears her mother’s footsteps walk past her room. Some habits never die, though they become redundant. Her phone trills twice as her mother heads out again, calling over her shoulder for Kou to do some homework, please, don’t be lazy, dear. She rolls her eyes and flops on her bed, grabbing her phone off the study desk first. She grins at Chigusa’s text, reminding her of their cake date tomorrow (‘ _bring your own money this time_ , beggar!!! I’m not paying for you again, I want to get the chocolate fondant this time!’) and then feels her expression sour at the next one.

> **8.46 PM, Wednesday  
>  ** Don’t think I need that stuff, it’s mostly junk toys, I think. Just keep it in my room, if I want anything, I’ll come by next week. Could you check if my Black Rose CD is in one of the boxes though? Got the letter, thanks.

She glares. Then types very fast.

> **8.47 PM  
>  ** Check it yourself! I’m not here to do your work for you, Onii-chan.

This time the response comes immediately. So, she thinks grimly, _that’s_ what it takes to get a reaction? Kou had never felt her anger bubble quite so furiously in her chest before.

> **8.47 PM  
>  ** What’s your problem? I just asked for a favor.
> 
> **8.48 PM  
>  ** No, you just asked for an excuse to not come home again. It doesn’t matter if you’re across the ocean, or just across town, clearly. All you want is to stay away and be by yourself.
> 
> **8.49 PM  
>  ** That’s not true. I’m busy this week, I’m still settling into work and practice. I’ll come home when I get the time, I promise.
> 
> **8.49 PM  
>  ** I hear that every time. Have you even called Mama once this week?
> 
> **8.50 PM  
>  ** Gou, it’s complicated, okay? I don’t see the need to check up on you guys every damn day. Give me a break. I’ll come next week, I promise.

She can feel her fury building in her throat, like nausea. Her hands tremble as she grips her phone and stares at the emotionless text on the screen. I promise I promise _I promise_ – how many times has she heard that? Just how many times is she supposed to ask her brother to come back to his family, just how many times is she expected to have her arms spread in open welcome?

> **8.55 PM  
>  ** Don’t bother.

Kou turns her phone off, stuffs it under her pillow and sits at her desk. Hours later, her mother’s footsteps tread past her bedroom door and she sighs, turning over on her front and letting just the few hot tears escape her tightly shut eyes.

 

 

**+4**

_you’ll never know how real to me you've been_

_this is the start of another empty page where I begin_

 

 

 

“Hey Gou,” Rin grinned at her. She had tried many times to imitate that smile in her younger days and had fallen short every time. “I got you something.”

They were at the edge of a field that the neighborhood kids used as a playground. Gou was perched on the fence lining the edge, her legs swinging just a foot from the ground. Rin leaned against the fence, body loose and dirty with mud and bits of grass. His team had just won at a vigorous game of football and he still had the triumphant glow in his cheeks. Gou reflected that her brother often looked like an avenging hero without even trying.

“Mmm,” she said, looking over with slight interest. Most of her focus was devoted to the chocolate ice-cream melting in her hand. “I don’t want a rock again, Onii-chan, I already gave away the last one to Mayu-chan, so.”

Rin scowled at her. “I’m not going to waste any more stones on you! You don’t appreciate things that are actually cool.”

“Right.”

“I’m not gonna give it to you if you’re gonna be so pouty.”

Gou simply sent him a lazy glare that spoke volumes of what she thought of _that_ threat. Rin’s mouth took a sulky shape, and he kicked the fence in frustration. Gou ignored the wobble. She’d learnt from her mother that boys are very easy to play if you know just when to speak and when to bide your time. Gou waited. Sure enough, the stubborn frown on Rin’s face crumpled into an apologetic and slightly pleading smile.

“Come on Gou, play fair, I’m tryna apologize here.”

Gou saw her time. She turned to him with an imperious toss of her hair. “Do you know what you’re apologizing _for_?”

Rin blinked. “For… making you upset?”

She could almost roll her eyes. Almost. Instead she let her glare take on a tinge of disappointment and hurt. Rin winced.

“Onii-chan, you are the most–!”

“Idiotic idiot,” supplied Sousuke, appearing as her annoyance failed. “Right, Gou?”

She huffed as Rin yelled out a snarl and directed a kick Sousuke’s way. “Don’t interfere, sluggard, this is between me and Gou!”

“Rin, you don’t even know what you did to make Gou mad.” The look Sousuke gave her, full of amusement, insight and sympathy, melted the icy armor she’d built in the span of the football match, disintegrating the anger she was using as a shield against her hurt. She was grateful for the warm press of Sousuke’s fist against her knee as her lips started to tremble. Rin sobered immediately, no sign of peevishness or sheepishness as he grabbed hold of her hands and begged, “Gou, I’m really sorry, okay? Please, please talk to me!”

Gou could just _hear_ the childish petulance if she had to be the one to spell out why she was mad-sad-mad so she buried her face in Sousuke’s shoulder to hide the few weak tears that slipped out.

“You wouldn’t let her join the match, Rin, and she really wanted to play this time.”

Gou bit her lip as she thought about the last weekend when Rin had made a fantastic goal to her frantic cheers, the hours she spent practising passing the ball to Sousuke, all in the hopes that maybe she could pass her bright brother the opportunity to shine even brighter. Perhaps she could have that one chance of sharing his spotlight.

“Gou?”

She felt Sousuke elbow her and grudgingly came out of the shelter of his shoulder. Rin stared at her sorrowfully, his hands slack at his sides.

“I just thought it’d be dangerous for you, Gou. None of the girls were playing and the rest were all boys. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Rin stepped closer and Sousuke stepped away, shielding the view of her face from onlookers. “I’m really sorry, Gou.”

The regret in his voice was enough. Gou covered her face as her body started to shake with sobs, and Rin surged forward, hugging her tightly, comfort and a balance at the same time.

“I’m s-sorry, O-nii-chan…”

“You can play next time if you want to; I promise I won’t stop you.” His voice carried hushed tears and Gou shook her head, still crying.

“I don’t wanna play if you don’t think I should,” she said, hiccupping. “I just… I thought you didn’t want to play with me ‘cause I’m so bad at sports.”

She gulped down the rest of her tears as Rin went still. Then he started shaking. Gou pulled away in alarm, concerned that she’d actually made him cry, only to see Rin staggering back and laughing. She frowned and then smiled in reluctance when she saw Sousuke trying to stop his own giggles. Rin blinked up at her with a fond smile.

“Yeah, you suck at sports, Gou, but when has that ever stopped me from wanting you on my team? You’re an idiot.”

“Onii-chan’s the idiot,” she mumbled without heat.

“Yeah, Rin’s definitely an idiot,” agreed Sousuke, dodging a punch from Rin and grinning smugly when Gou giggled.

“Stop sucking up to my sister, stupid!”

Gou jumped off her perch and met Sousuke’s low-five with a laugh. Her fingers caught on his palm for the briefest of extra moments and she ducked her head to avoid Sousuke’s smile. It would be warm and slightly mocking and she would have to punch him in the face for it, and she didn’t think that would be very indicative of her gratitude. Rin scowled at the two of them and then shifted nervously.

“Are you going to accept your present now?” he asked hopefully. Gou made a face and held out her hand, closing her eyes before Rin could instruct her to.

As much faith as she had in her brother’s brilliance, Gou was fully expecting another bug corpse trapped in stone to be placed reverently on her palm. Which was why her eyes flew open in shock and excitement when instead she felt a silky loop on her skin. Gou stared in delight, ignoring Rin’s annoyed huffs, at the azure blue ribbon tied loosely around her wrist. It was a foot long, long enough to be worn in her hair or as an accessory if she wished. She looked up at Rin’s pink face. He fidgeted.

“Do you li–?”

“Thank you, Onii-chan!” Her arms tight around Rin’s waist, she could only raise her tearful eyes to sparkle at him for a few moments before burying her face in his chest once more. “Love you,” came out muffled as a result.

He heard it. Rin wrapped his arms around his sister and said softly, “I love you too, Gou. And hey,” he nudged her back so he could smile into her face, “you can always tell me if I hurt you, okay? Just say it out loud, ‘cause I _am_ an idiot about these things sometimes. I promise I’ll listen to you.”

His steady warmth, the reassurance of his brotherly oath, the understanding and camaraderie in his voice would stay with her. It would become the embodiment of what she remembered of her brother; a hero, a friend. Four years later, Gou would tie that azure ribbon around her hair and feel like a veteran warrior. She would remember that promise, and remember that once, Rin kept all of his promises. She would put her pen to a blank paper and fail to say a word.

 

 

**+5**

_I just wanted to say_

 

 

 

He’d said, “I’ll walk you back,” and for a moment, it’s like old times again and she can jump on his arm and pull at his hair and cry helplessly, “Welcome home!”

Then history rushes in and she blinks at her avoidant brother, bruised and battered from a battle that seems to bury him from the inside, and yet, reaching out for her like she’s still the same girl who had always needed his protective hugs and sympathetic grins. She still is.

Their walk is quiet. The setting sun blazes ruby and gold, and Kou’s sure that it looks like both their hair is on fire. She pictures them from an outsider’s point of view and sees two like figures walking in mutual loneliness, side by side and an ocean’s distance between them. A distance that she’s starting to be afraid of never being able to breach.

So many words had spilled from her lips before. Kou would take back each one; the bruising ones, the accusing ones, the assuming ones, all the honest ones. Kou would rewind all the scenes until she is back at the first line of an empty page, her fingers tight and failing to say the words that would matter.

“You are the strongest, best person I know. It’s always been a little hard, watching you fight, from the sidelines; but I’ve never once doubted that you would win. If you’re afraid, I’m rooting for you. I’m here still. I love you still.”

A thousand chances to tell the truth and Kou never takes a single one. She can’t find it in herself to berate herself for it now, though; she’s so happy right now. Their paces match, sister and brother, and she’s still, still the same girl she always was. She would still fight him, and fight for him. The chances boil hotly in her throat as she gazes up at her brother, who looks the same but different, who does the same things as before but not with ease. Who looks down at her with remembered discomfort and asks, “How’s Kaa-san?”

She had been thankful that he’d still known her well enough to not take her harsh words to heart, but they had left their impact nonetheless. Kou would tape her mouth shut to trap her tongue into obedience.

“She’s much the same as the last time you came home,” her tongue says instead.

“The same, huh?” says Rin softly. “…I’m glad. Kaa-san is so resilient.”

Her letters burn. She says instead, “Onii-chan, are you sleeping well?”

Rin lets out a tired laugh and nods. “I sleep like the dead because of practice; and I keep my proper hours. Don’t worry about me, Gou; I know how to take care of myself.”

Kou nods. Rin glances at her and the shift in his gait is obviously unsure. “How are you doing?”

Kou’s pace stutters. Another empty page, another crumpled ball. A promise, too many promises. Chance after chance after chance; she has always cried over the wrong things, but she has always been brave enough to put him first. You didn’t get to be a Matsuoka if you were afraid to make the hard choices.

Kou says, “School is going well. I like Iwatobi-kō.”

Her hit falls true; her brother settles into silence once more, tension ever-present in his frame. They stop in front of the lodge and Rin nods, looking up at one of the second storeys.

“Take care, Gou.”

“Bye, Onii-chan.”

She waits ‘til she can’t see his jacket anymore, then goes inside feeling light-headed.

She will always put him first.

 

 

**-1**

_I found a way that I can tell the truth_

_and make it up to you_

 

 

 

Rin could cry again.

Gou lets out a suffering sigh at the sight of her brother holding onto their mother like a lifeline and sobbing like the time he’d cut his own arm open with Tou-chan’s carving knife. Gou had actually thought that his departure would be sob-free seeing as how he could fistbump his best friend goodbye when they left for the airport, but the last call for his plane proved otherwise.

“I’m going to miss you, Rin,” her mother is saying.

Mama is holding her expression in a smile furiously, but neither Gou nor Rin misses the trembling of her fingers or the moisture at the corners of her eyes. Their mother has had plenty of practice letting her children leave the nest to try out the world for themselves, but each new parting seems bittersweet nonetheless. The heat and backlash that she’d suffered from relatives for being so lenient with the two of them never reached their notice unless by accident; even Gou doesn’t know how much her mother gave up for the two of them to do as she did. To build something for themselves, a career or a life, or at least have the chance to.

“I’m thankful that Lori-san is going to look after you again,” her mother is saying, “But you promise to call every week? _Every_ week, you hear me?”

Gou doesn’t hear her brother’s stammered promises because she can only watch his fingers holding tight to their mother’s shoulders. She wonders, is it because he knows what kind of loneliness he is going to meet, or because he knows that this time is going to be a new kind of _again_?

Her mother is saying, “I love you so much, Rin. I’m proud of you.”

Somehow they managed to fit their puzzle pieces together to make a family. Gou knows that she’s not part of a normal household, she knows that there were certain responsibilities that she was never meant to be burdened with but was anyhow, she knows that people are still shocked by the Matsuoka style of living. But here’s a few other things she knows:

She knows her mother. For her flaws, for her virtues, for everything they cried out for together.

She knows her brother. For his dreams, for his ethics, for the impact he makes on the world just by existing.

She knows herself. She is strong. She has learned to be. And she will always be able to build those she loves up, when they can’t do it themselves.

Her brother turns to his sister and Gou smiles. She doesn’t hide her tears, she doesn’t hide the sense of loss that would be so clear in her expression, she doesn’t try to say, “I’m okay, Onii-chan, I’m just not prepared to say goodbye again.”

She envelopes him in her arms, tries to be the warmth and reassurance and promise that he’d always been to her (always _always_ been to her) and her thousand letters, her thousand chances make their time felt. She says, “I love you, Onii-chan. I always will.”

Gou’s probably going to go home and laugh at Rin’s renewed sobbing, and then send him an email teasing him about it. Then forward a picture she’d sneakily taken of him bawling to Sousuke, with Rin in cc. These are all baby sister constants, after all. But right now, she lets herself soak the front of his shirt like she once used to, cry herself sore like she once used to, and take her brother for granted, finally. Rin’s arms are tight around her. Rin’s goodbye is whispered in her ear. Rin’s arms are an anchor.

Her brother looks like a hero as he walks away from them. His back is straight, and his grin is confident, and he waves at them wildly. Gou can almost imagine that the light around him is concentrated like a stream of sunlight.

Her brother turns and faces forward.


End file.
